


Business As Usual

by rhodrymavelyne



Category: Dead Like Me, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:46:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: Most of the girls Abigail Hobbs could have been friends with, her father killed. Or Hannibal Lecter killed. She did have one friend no one could kill because George Lass was already dead. And most people thought George was imaginary. George, however, could exert a manipulative hand over life and death. And Abigail is finding George can be as ruthless as Hannibal after reaping so many people…yet is Abigail in a position to judge?
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 3





	Business As Usual

**Author's Note:**

> Warning. This is a much darker, less idealistic version of George Lass after years of undeath. I don’t own Hannibal or Dead Like Me, but sometimes both borrow my imagination.

Abigail Hobbs had one friend no one could kill, for she was already dead. No one else knew George Lass existed. 

Abigail knew. She also knew how manipulative the dead girl could be, but she hadn’t thought she’d do something like this. 

“George.” Abigail closed her eyes. “I thought we were friends, yet you lured Marisa to the spot where we were. Where she’d catch Hannibal’s eye.”

“Got him all curious, didn’t she?” George cocked her head as if wondering if she should feel shame, yet not able to. “She could have stayed home but Marisa was loyal to you.”

“Why?” Abigail whispered. “You got Marisa killed. She was my friend and I thought…I thought we were friends.” 

This was what hurt. Her invisible friend had betrayed her. 

“Do you how many girls I’ve reaped over the years? A lot more than your father has killed, even more than Hannibal has killed.” George shrugged. “There was a time when Marisa’s death would have bothered me, but I saw her body as a chance to warn you and Will of what your new companion was capable of. Not that it stopped you from deciding to accept him, but I thought you could use a heads up.” George swung her arms in the air, as if shaking off any concerns. “There was always a chance Hannibal wouldn’t kill your friend. Guess she sealed her fate when she called her mother a bitch.”

“Hannibal hates rudeness.” Abigail leaned against the tree opposite George. “You know he used Marisa’s remains to frame Will for murder.”

“Which got you off the hook when he faked your death.” George dropped her arms. “Will wouldn’t have wanted you to go to jail. Besides it’s not like Hannibal would let anything happen to your other surrogate father, no matter whom else he might kill.”

“How can you be so casual about this?” Abigail demanded, stepping forward, staring at the reaper everyone once assumed was her invisible friend. “This is life and death.”

“Life and death may be a game to Hannibal, an addictive one to your father, but it’s business as usual for me, Abigail.” George dropped down from the tree and stood facing her. “Everything that mattered to me when I was alive is starting to fade a bit, including what I once found dramatic and important.” She turned, began to walk away. “You’ll get there, too, Abigail.” She turned slightly. “After all, you’re holding a cousin of mine prisoner in that house you’re hiding in.” 

“Miriam Lass.” Abigail had only just met Hannibal’s addled guest. She never would have guessed Miriam was a prisoner. “She’s your cousin.” 

“On my dad’s side. I lost touch with her when my parents got divorced. Or was it when I died?” George smiled, a genuinely sweet, almost wistful smile. “You see? I can’t remember. I can barely remember my mother’s face. There may be a time when I can’t remember even my sister any more.”

“You have to try.” Abigail was surprised at the force in her voice. “Memories make us who we are.”

“Yes, but do they make us happy? Does remembering your father make you any happier? Or remembering how Will went to prison for you? Or how Marisa died?” George shrugged again. “Just ask your prisoner if she’s happier knowing she’s a prisoner. If she isn’t more contented forgetting herself, thinking she’s a guest.”

George strode off, the setting sun shining upon her golden hair. 

Abigail watched her go, feeling a knot clench in her stomach.

“Abigail.” Hannibal was coming towards her, walking down the path in a blazer, sweater, and tie. Always impeccably dressed, even if it was kill. Or kidnap. Or imprison. 

Or manipulate. 

“Is everything all right?” Hannibal stopped when he was very close to her, regarding her gentle concern. “I thought I heard you talking.”

“Only to myself. Or my imaginary friend.” Abigail forced herself to smile. “Guess I’m lonely. I wish Will was here.”

“So do I.” Hannibal took her hand. “He’ll join us, Abigail. When he’s ready.”

“When will that be?” Abigail looked down at the bluffs. “I’m getting tired of losing people I care about.” 

The boldness of her own words surprised her. After all Hannibal had been the one who killed Marisa and framed Will. He’d been the one who isolated her, made her lonely.

He didn’t take offense. “We must be patient. In the meantime, we must care for Miriam. Ready her for her release.”

“You’re releasing her?” Abigail did a double-take. She’d been trying hard to get too attached to their prisoner. She didn’t want to like Miriam too much. She’d learned that the hard way with Elise Nicholls. 

“As soon as she’s ready.” Hannibal stroked his hand. “You won’t be alone for much longer, Abigail. Will and I will both be with you.”

She wasn’t sure if she believed him. She wanted to, though. 

In the end, it didn’t matter how cold the people were that Abigail Hobbs cared about. They were still the people she cared about. 

Hopefully George would take care of herself. She’d find someone or something to care for. She wouldn’t be alone. 

Abigail Hobbs was in no position to judge her.


End file.
